Cloaks of Red and Grey
by yozza
Summary: AsoIaF but slightly different. What if House Stark had a vassal who could turn the tide in the War of Five Kings?
1. Chapter 1

A/N

I'm going to have to bore you with some details on characters ages.

Robb Stark, Jon Snow, Joffrey=16

Sansa, Myrcella=13

Arya=12

Bran, Tommen= 10

All others are the same as they are in the book.

Disclaimer: The overall plot line, characters (excluding my O/C's- Redcloaks and Greycloaks) and setting belong to George R.R. Martin.

Other notes: at the end of this work there will be an epilogue explaining the story behind my two new houses including sigil's, words, holdings, current family and history.

* * *

Adam

Lord Eddard Stark said the words and swung the sword. The rangers head rolled off his shoulders. Gared his name had been, and a true night's watch man, always holding true to his vow's. And Adam Redcloak felt nothing but relief that he was dead.

Adam wasn't malicious. He took no joy in watching the execution, as Theon Greyjoy did, who was laughing as he booted the head. He remembered the moments before Ser Rodrik told them of the Night's Watch deserter

"Relax your bow arm," Robb chided. Bran loosed another arrow, this time sending it flying over the wall. Robb, Jon, Rickon and his cousin Beric howled with laughter, until Lord Stark silenced them with "Which of you was a marksman at 10?"

The yard remained quiet for a moment. Then Adam muttered quietly "Me". He then walked swiftly to where Bran stood and crouched down next to the boy. It was true. By the time he was Bran's age he was a master of sword, lance and bow. There weren't many who could match him.

"You're over-thinking it," he said "Like Robb said, you need to relax, but not too much. Your problem is that you're focusing too much on yourself. Just don't think about anything other than where you want that arrow to go."

Nodding, Bran picked up the bow and notched an arrow. An arrow flew and hit dead center shattering Bran's quarrel. But the arrow wasn't Bran's. They all turned as Arya dropped her bow and ran, with Bran chasing after her. Rickon, Jon and Robb set to work on collecting arrows.

Beric and Adam normally helped, but they had both heard Ser Rodrik. A deserter. The look of worry passed between them both, the same look they shared whenever a deserter was found. Worry for Domeric Redcloak.

Domeric had been sent to the wall after the Greyjoy rebellion. Their father, Rodrik, had been killed on Pyke by Victarion Greyjoy. So when Lord Stark had brought the nephew of the man who killed his father home, Domeric had gone mad. He had tried to kill Theon Greyjoy, been stopped by Jory and Ser Rodrik, and for the crime he had been sent to the wall.

Every time a deserter was found, they were afraid that it would be Domeric.

So when the man turned out to be Gared, Adam was glad. Or more accurately, glad it wasn't Dom.

He looked at the others. His cousin Beric, stood loyally by Eddard's side, as was his place as the new Sword of the Wolf. Eddard Stark stood as still as a stone until he handed Ice back to Greyjoy. Robb and Jon looked on solemnly. Bran was holding his fear back, keeping his face expressionless. Rodrik and Jory Cassel, and the other guardsmen were much the same. Only Theon was having an even remotely good time.

He was so lost in his thoughts that time seemed to disappear. Before long he heard Jon Snow shout to his father. He said that he and Robb had found something in the woods. Lord Stark urged the guards onward, only to find that 'something' was in fact a dead direwolf and seven small pups.

"It's an abomination!" Theon exclaimed.

"No, it's a direwolf," Robb said quietly. He and Jon had dismounted and stood over the dead wolf. The others dismounted quickly and Theon, Bran and Lord Eddard moved closer to the wolves.

"There are no direwolves south of the wall," Theon remarked

"No. There are five," Robb shot back

Adam stood next to Jon. They had always shared a closer bond than the others had, save pehaps for Jon and Arya. They had shared the experience of feeling unwanted. Adam watched the wolf pups with fasinasction.

"They won't survive long without their mother. Best kill them quickly. It'll be a mercy," Jory said. Ned Stark nodded his agreement

Theon drew his dagger and approached Bran, trying to take the wolf from him, "Give it here, little Lord."

"No," Bran cried clutching the small wolf.

"Put away your blade," Robb said angrily.

"I don't have to answer to you,"

"Father please, don't let him," Bran begged

"I'm sorry Bran. It has to be done," Ned said solemnly.

Adam wanted to say something, but couldn't. He knew Lord Stark was making a mistake but his voice had deserted him, much as Gared had deserted the watch. Jon seemed to notice something, however.

"Lord Stark. The grey direwolf is the sigil of your house. There are five grey pups here, one for each of your children, and two others for the Redcloaks. The direwolf is their sigil too, black on red," he said "Perhaps we were meant to find these wolves."

That was when Adam realised that Jon had omitted himself from the count.

"None for yourself Jon?" Ned asked

"I'm no Stark,"Jon replied

"Alright, so be it. You will be responsible for them, you will train them and you will feed them. And if they die, you will bury them," Lord Stark said

"They won't die. We won't let them," Robb said

And as such the winterfell guard mounted their horses once more. Robb chose a pup for himself and one for Rickon. Theon collected Sansa and Arya's new pups. Beric and Adam chose theirs and Bran kept hold of his.

As they were riding off, they heard a sound which Jon leapt of his horse to investigate. They found, much to their surprise, that it was a red eyed, white furred wolf.

"The runt of the litter!" Theon exclaimed "That one will die even faster than others."

"I think not," Jon replied cooly "This ones mine."

Adam couldn't help but smile. He had had his doubts about the Stark children being meant to find the wolves if there wasn't one for Jon. But now he knew Jon was right.

"You were right, Snow. There was a wolf for each of you Stark's," he heard himself saying.

He was fairly certain Jon glared at his back as he rode on.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N

Disclaimer: The overall plot line, characters (excluding my O/C's- Redcloaks and Greycloaks) and setting belong to George R.R. Martin.

* * *

Beric

"I'm so sorry my love. Jon Arryn is dead"

Beric sat up with a start, gasping for air and soaked in sweat. He had a strong sense of dread as he woke up from his nightmare. _Jon Arryn is dead_, for some reason he knew that those words would haunt him for years to come. Jon Arryn had been a friend of Beric's. He had fought beside him at Pyke during the Greyjoy rebellion, and on the Trident in Roberts. Hearing that he was suddenly dead wasn't a pleasant feeling at all.

He had been in the godswood with Ned Stark, about to voice his concerns for his young cousin, Adam, for the first time ever,when Catelyn Tully had approached. At first he had wanted to curse her. This was about his family, and a Tully of all people should understand that. But when she had told them of the late Lord Arryn's sudden death, his problems were no longer important. He was suddenly very empty, void of all emotions until the grief had surfaced that night. That was all it was grief.

But yet, Beric couldn't help but feel as if there was something more. Something he was missing. When they had told him that his father was dead at the start of Roberts Rebellion, he felt pained and wanted nothing more than revenge. But he had never suffered so much as he was now. Why, he wondered. Why am I plagued by the words _Jon Arryn is_ _dead_ but not _your fathe_r _is dead. _

He was shaken from his thoughts by movement on the end of his bed. Instinctively, he reached for his dagger. But them his wolf lifted it's head and looked at him. Beric instantly relaxed. The wolf was a comfort. One he was glad to have. Beric had decided to name his Shadow, a rather fitting name, as the wolf was as black as the wolf on the Redcloak sigil. It moved a deal more quietly than the other wolves and rarely growled or howled, not because it couldn't like Jon's but simply out of preference.

His thought's turned to the other wolves. He was amazed by how fast they had grown. Only a few weeks old and already they had grown a great deal. Like himself, most of the Stark children had all named their wolves appropriately. Jon had named his silent ice-white, red-eyed wolf Ghost. Robb's was the fastest of the group. Grey like most of it's pack, it looked simply like a grey blur when it ran. Aptly named Grey-Wind. Arya had, of course, named hers after her favorite historical figure the female warrior Nymeria, and Sansa's was called Lady.

The exception's to naming properly came from Rickon, who had named him Shaggydog. Hardly a fitting name for a direwolf, but he was only six, so who was Beric to judge him for it. Bran was yet to name his.

Finally, Adam had named his wolf Vex. This particular wolf, while just as strong and brave as his kin, was the most playful of them. He had a habit of annoying the other wolves a fair deal, much like Adam himself when he wasn't killing himself with rigorous training. Adam worked himself too hard. Pushing himself on with sword work for hours after everyone else had stopped. One day it would become too much, and he would hurt either himself or someone else. Beric had tried to warn him of this but he wouldn't listen. Hopefully he'd be more sociable during the King's Visit.

Suddenly, he remembered that he would have a large role tomorrow (or later that day, he wasn't sure if it had reached midnight yet)The king would arrive with a rather large party and Beric needed to make sure that none of them posed a threat to Lord Stark or his family. That was the duty of the Sword of the Wolf. He lay back down, and went back to sleep.

Unfortunately, morning came all too soon, and it wasn't long before he found himself walking beside Lady Catleyn and Maester Luwin discussing the need for wine and food as King Robert was said to be one of the best drinkers in the realm. Shadow lurked in the shadows beside them, sniffing ahead. They passed under a large arch-way, on the way towards the court yard and found themselves passing an as yet unnamed direwolf

"Gods they grow so fast," Catelyn complained.

They continued walking, but then they heard movement behind them. They all whipped round, and Beric's hand went the hilt of his valyrian steel broadsword, Wolf-Sworn. He let his arm drop to his side and let out a small laugh as he realized it was only Bran Stark, climbing down from a tower. Beric knew for a fact that Bran knew every nook and foothold in every wall in Winterfell. Adam had taken to naming him Brandon the Climber. It had stuck and now there were a few people who called him that, Beric included.

Beric could see that Catelyn was furious that Bran had been climbing again. But he beat her to it.

"My Lord, how many times now has your mother told you to stop climbing? A few hundred at least I'd wager," he said, in as close to a disapproving voice as he could manage without roaring with laughter

"Beric, the King's here! I could see him from the tower. There were so many of them. And I saw the kingsguard too!"Bran yelled down excitedly.

As he landed on the floor, Catleyn took her chance, before Beric could take it, as he had been planning too. "Bran, I want you to promise me. No more climbing."

Bran looked down at the ground, before looking up again and responding with "I promise."

"You know what?" Cat asked. Bran shook his head in reply. "You always look at your feet when you lie."

Bran smiled at that. Beric laughed at that. He couldn't contain it any longer. But he managed to say "So the King's here is he? I suppose we best go and greet him,"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N

Disclaimer: The overall plot line, characters (excluding my O/C's- Redcloaks and Greycloaks) and setting belong to George R.R. Martin.

Reviews will be appreciated, and thanks to everyone who followed/favourited this story

Also, forget to mention that Rickon is six in this.

* * *

Robb  


Robb was in awe as he watched King Roberts entourage enter Winterfell. He saw the king, who he barely recognized, save for the black hair and blue eyes that could only belong to a man was too old to be Renly and Stannis would never have ridden all the way north, especially not in the company of Robert. But the man wasn't how Robb had imagined him to be. This man was fat and boisterous, not the warrior his father had described him to be. But then, maybe fifteen years of kingship in a loveless marriage (as half the realm knew it was) could that to a man.

Robb turned his attention to the rest of the column. He saw the kingsguard, in their shining white armour, riding alongside the king. Arys Oakheart, currently the youngest member Roberts kingsguard, though in Robb's opinion, perhaps one of the best knights among them, aside from Barristan Selmy, who was not present. He saw the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister in his golden armour, the only member not to wear white. There was Boros Blount, a coward by all acounts and Meryn Trant, an old man. Then came Preston Greenfield and Mandon Moore. Of all of them, Ser Arys was the finest knight. The kingslayer may be the better swordsman but how can you be a fine knight when you murdered the last king you served.

Shifting his gaze away from the 'fine' knights, he saw the crown prince Joffrey Baratheon. Straight from the start, Robb disliked him. He looked so arrogant, as though he were already King. Behind him, Robb watched as his sworn shield, Sandor Clegane rode in, with his hounds helm donned.

By this point the King had dismounted and was walking towards them. The people of Winterfell all dropped respectfully to one knee, aside from the Stark's themselves. The King walked right up to Robb's father and looked at him for a moment.

"You've gotten fat," the huge man said eventually

Ned Stark simply nodded in the general direction of Roberts round stomach in response, his face stoic. Then they both laughed, and Robert pulled Ned into a bone crushing hug.

Still smiling, the king moved to Ned's left and greeted Robb's mother, and then ruffled Rickon's hair. Before long, Robb and Robert were face to face. The shook hands and the strength behind Roberts grip was astonishing. Just from that handshake, Robb could tell that despite his size, Robert had lost none of his legendary strength. His father had told them stories of how Robert had fought with a warhammer that he could swing with one hand, whilst Ned struggled to lift it with two.

"You must be Robb," he heard Robert say, Robb smiled. Robert may not have been what Robb had imagined, but he was very likeable.

One by one Robert greeted the Starks. He complimented Sansa on her beauty, smiled wildly at Arya's wildness and asked Bran to show him his muscles, saying that he'd be a knight one day. Finally, at the end of the line, he reached the Redcloaks. Like with Ned, he greeted Beric warmly, pulling him also into an embrace.

"Beric! It's good to see you!" Robert exclaimed

"You as well, your grace," Beric replied.

"I'll have none of that 'Your Grace' nonsense, you're an old friend, and there's no need for it," Robert said, grinning all the while, with Beric returning the gesture. Then Robert moved on to the man everyone had been dreading. Adam Redcloak was still soaked in sweat, as he had been swinging madly with a mace in the practice yard before he had joined them to greet the king.

Unlike every Redcloak before him, Adam had not inherited the black hair or brown eyes of his family. Instead his hair he shared the Stark traits more. Beric and Adam's great-grandmother had been a Stark, so it just seemed the Stark features had taken a while to come out in the Redcloak family. It was his eyes which were a light shade of violet, that caused worry. A Targaryen trait.

No one was sure where this trait had come from, as the Redcloaks were never related to the Targaryens, not even distantly. Rumors were given more fuel by the fact that Ned Stark's bastard's hair was closer in colour to that of the Redcloaks than to the Stark's, darkening from very dark brown to black in recent years. They were worried because they had no idea how Robert would react to Adam's eye colour

Apparently they had worried for nothing, because Robert didn't even notice. Instead, after the queen and her younger children had made their introductions, he asked Ned to take him to the crypts to pay his respects to the dead.

"We've traveled for weeks, surely the dead can wait?" Cersei objected. She was supposedly the most beautiful woman in Westeros, and Robb agreed. Looking across he could tell that Beric didn't. Many people found it hard to read the Redcloaks, but to the Stark's they it was easier than reading a story book. Beric was unimpressed. But then, he had been unimpressed with anyone ever since he had met Wylla Manderly. That had been an interesting day and this was nothing new.

Robert shot his wife a look which silenced her "Ned?" Robb's father nodded and led the way, with Beric loyally by his side as always

After the king left, the people of Winterfell dispersed back to their daily activities. The queen and her children made their way inside, following Lady Catelyn to the chambers that had been prepared for them. Robb couldn't help but see the way Sansa was looking at the Prince as she walked beside him. Robb scrunched his nose up in disgust. He looked to Arya who mimicked gagging, before loudly asking "Where's the Imp?"

"Arya!" Sansa exclaimed in shock. It was all Robb could do not to burst out laughing, and he could tell that Adam and Jon were having the same difficulty.

The queen however turned to her twin and asked "Where is that wretched little brother of ours?" Jaime shrugged in response and walked off toward the winter town, presumably to find Tyrion Lannister.

Four of the remaining five kingsguard strode with the royal family. Arys Oakheart stayed behind. Soon, Mikken was hammering away at his forge and Bran was shooting arrows at targets using the technique Adam had taught him. He wasn't yet hitting the bullseye, but he was hitting the target. It was an extraordinary improvement.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Robb turned and saw his brother Jon, and his friend Adam stepping up to him.

"That could have gone worse,"Jon commented

"Don't speak so soon, Snow, we've still got the feast to go yet," Robb laughed

"No you've still got the feast, I don't. I just get to drink and eat. You have to deal with the royal family, Stark"Jon said, grinning though the humor never reached his eyes, which looked sad.

Robb decided to change the subject away from Jon's parentage "Just don't let Robert get a good look at your eyes, Adam and we'll all be fine,"

"Us maybe, but I'm fairly certain that I saw Myrcella staring in your direction," Adam said, in a teasing tone

"Don't you have to walk her to the dais later, Robb?" Jon asked, seemingly innocent but this time the smile reached his eyes.

"You're a lucky man Stark, I have to walk my cousin up there. And you know how ugly he is," Adam said, not letting the jape go

"Do we have to call you Prince Robb, once you marry her that is?" This came from Jon

_They aren't going to let this go_, Robb thought to himself and sighing at the fact. It was true he had caught Myrcella looking his way and holding the stare longer than she should have otherwise, but it wasn't fair of Adam to be so taunting of it. He had seen Adam looking at certain someone that way a few times. He was half-tempted to bring that up now, but Jon would probably hang the Redcloak boy from a tower for it.

Instead he just let it drop "Say what you like, and call me whatever you want. I don't care,"

Adam grinned "Why thank you, Gladys"

Now Robb was slightly tempted to hang Adam. Only slightly, despite how many problems it would eventually solve.

They all turned as they heard their wolves howling from the kennel.

"Gods! What in seven hells was that!?" Ser Arys cried, grabbing the hilt of his longsword. They had all forgotten about he young white knight, but he was standing the edge of the group now,clearly slightly scared by the sound of the wolves. He had clearly heard the whole conversation.

Adam raised an eyebrow quizzically at him. _How exactly does he do that_, Robb asked himself, not for the first time. It was a look that was both a threat, a question and a dare all in one. Plus, he could raise one eyebrow without moving the other, a skill Robb was still working on.

Arys recognized the look and returned one exactly the same. Then he grinned and said "I won't tell anyone, don't worry My Lord," the last of which was clearly directed at Robb, who could feel himself going red.

"Good," Adam said, his face going blank again "Want to go meet our wolves?"

"Why not?" was Arys' reply

* * *

Additional Notes:

So, review and let me know if you spotted the Skulduggery Pleasant reference in there.

Also, where do you think I'm going with the Adam + Targ looks/Jon+Redcloak looks? who does Adam have feelings for? Will Robb ever feel the same towards Myrcella? Let me know what you think in a review or a Private Message.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N

Disclaimer: The overall plot line, characters (excluding my O/C's- Redcloaks and Greycloaks) and setting belong to George R.R. Martin.

Reviews will be appreciated, and thanks to everyone who followed/favourited this story

**Review Responses **

**Deus Swiftblade: I don't think I did**

**Guest: Don't worry, they each have their strength's and weaknesses.**

* * *

Beric  


"Is everyone ready?" Lord Stark asked.

They were standing outside the door to Winterfell's main hall. The castle had never been so crowded as it was now that the King was here. His original retinue would have been large enough to crowd Winterfell, not to mention all the others that joined them along the way that Ser Preston told him about. Right now, Beric would happily have joined the watch if only for peace and quiet. But he knew if he did, Adam would ride north, kill him, kill Domeric and then just because he may as well, go south and kill Maric. No laws against kin-slaying would stop him. If Beric left, he would have no family anyway, so what would the difference be.

Several times now he had raised concerns about Adam to Ned Stark, but every time he had been interrupted. The first had been in the Godswood, when Catelyn had stopped him by news of Jon Arryn. The second had been in the crypts beneath Winterfell. This time Robert had interrupted by 'honoring' Ned with the offer to wed Sansa to Joffrey, Ned to become the new hand-of-the-king, and Beric to be granted an advisory seat on the council. That had shocked him into silence. Ned would go south and Beric would go with him. That would make Adam's problems even worse.

He was jolted from his thoughts by Robb.

"Beric, where is your cousin? He was meant to be here," Robb told him. He could hear Catelyn asking Ned the same thing.

Beric spoke loud enough that they both heard his response "They're in the Godswood. They said they'd be here in time," he admitted guiltily. Adam had told him where they'd be in case they were late, but he didn't like admitting this to Catelyn.

Cersei looked at him coldly and asked "Just what would they be doing in the Godswood together when they have a feast to attend to?" hinting at something that by the looks of Robb's face, he didn't want to think about

"Dancing," Beric said flatly, trying to sound convincing. Robb started laughing and soon Bran was too. Ned remained mostly expressionless, but his eyes showed that he found it amusing. They all knew that 'dancing' when it came from Arya or Adam, meant sword fighting.

Cersei had a look of distaste, she looked to Ned Stark "You should keep your daughter away from people like these Redcloak's. They are a bastard line after all,"

Despite the truth behind these words, they still hurt. He wanted to order Shadow on her but that would be breaking guest rights. So he didn't. Robert looked set to do the job for him however.

The queen was saved from her untimely death by Vex bounded towards jumped up on Tommen and pinned him to the ground. The queen paled and moved towards her son, but stopped short when she realized he was laughing. She frowned, whilst Robert and Myrcella chuckled between them.

It was at that moment, as Beric knew it would be, that Arya and Adam came into view, both covered dirt, the latter with a bloody nose, whilst the former wore a massive grin.

"Arya, you're late," Ned Stark said

"Well, I'm here now so lets go," she said impatiently,as though everyone else was late and she was on time.

Catelyn was giving Adam a lecture about how it wasn't proper for Arya to be learning swordplay. He seemed to be holding his own with sound arguments. Sansa blushing madly looking at Joffrey, ever acting ever so gallant. Then she turned and noticed Arya, or more accurately, the state of her clothing.

"Arya! You can't wear those, they're filthy!" she exclaimed, then stood straighter and nodded like she had just thought of the perfect solution. Knowing Sansa, it wouldn't be something Arya would like. It wasn't.

"Go change into a dress, then I'll help you..."

"I don't have to wear a dress, I'm fine with what I've got on!" Arya yelled

Sansa was shocked and appalled by Arya's behavior, especially in front of Royal guests. Cersei looked on at the small Stark girl with contempt, just another thing Beric hated her for. She was so arrogant thinking herself untouchable, and irresistible. Most men would agree. Beric didn't he loved only one other. And the Lannisters were most definitely not untouchable. _If you're untouchable, then why didn't you choose a side in the rebellion until it was clear who would win,_ if Tywin was untouchable, then he wouldn't have had any reason to fear choosing the wrong side. Unfortunately, only northerners saw this, and as such everyone bowed and sucked up to the Lannisters.

Joffrey had a sneer on his face. Catelyn looked set to give Arya the lecture of her short life, when the room echoed with Roberts booming laughter, taking everyone by surprise, not least Cersei and Catelyn.

Robert placed a hand on Ned's shoulder "She's got the wolf-blood Ned, no point trying to tame her. You'd have as much luck as you would have had with Lyanna," he laughed but by the end he looked sad and remorseful.

Triumphant, Arya stuck out her tongue at Sansa and took her place. Beric heard a chuckle behind turned and saw his cousin pulled on his armour, a mischievous look in his eye. Both of their armour was made up of a mail hauberk, underneath their leathers and a steel breastplate, plus gauntlets. Beric had his Wolf-Sworn strapped to his back, whilst Adam wore a longsword at his side. He had wiped most of the blood of his face by this point. Beric told himself to ask how he got it later on.

Then it began.

The doors opened and they entered the hall. Robert and Catelyn went first, heading for the dais. They reached their seats, Robert sat in the middle seat, and Cat two spaces to his right. Ned and Cersei followed soon after, the former clearly uncomfortable with being so close to the queen. Who wouldn't be? Ned sat down on Roberts left and Cersei in the empty space between Robert and Catelyn. Bran and Tommen were next to make the trek through the long hall, though they stopped at the table that had been set up in front of the dais for the Stark and Baratheon children plus one Redcloak child. Rickon followed them quickly, but stopped half-way and Jon had to urge him on. Then it was Beric's turn. Originally he had been meant to walk last with Adam, but last minute arrangements had been made to make sure Arya behaved herself. And so Beric was the one to walk beside her.

As he stepped out into the hall, he got his first look at just how many people there were. At the foot of the dais, stood the Kingsguard. Meryn Trant, Mandon Moore, Boros Blount, Arys Oakheart and Preston Greenfield. _A shame Ser Barristan is not here__, he would have made good company._ The entire Winterfell household was here, plus Lannister and Baratheon soldiers, knights, squires singers and fools. Serving girls were also quite plentiful. Beric spotted Vayon Poole and his daughter Jeyne. Jory Cassel and his uncle Ser Rodrik sat with the guards. Heward, Will, Tomard, Desmond and Porther were the only ones he could name before they had passed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Arya pulling faces, trying to make him laugh, trying to make him look like a fool. She wasn't successful in her self given mission because they reached the dais before he couldn't hold it any longer. He watched Arya take her seat, before taking his own on the left of Ned Stark.

Once seated, he watched the remainder of the children head towards the Dais. Robb and Myrcella looked like a good couple together. Myrcella kept on glancing up at Robb, with a timid smile on his face. Only the fact that the corners of Robb's mouth curled upwards gave any indication that he was aware of these looks. Adam, Theon and Jon were never going to forget this. Maybe they'd already begun with the teasing.

Next came Joffrey and Sansa. Beric hated Joffrey. The boy acted so smug and superior to everyone. He acted the same way as his mother. He showed no affection to his siblings as the Starks did. Tommen and Myrcella were both sweet children, and the fact that Joffrey treated them like they were beneath him made Beric burn with rage. Mainly because that was what Adam often thought of himself as. Beneath the rest of them. It had first come to notice when Maric left for Dragonstone and Beric for the wall. It had made him feel abandoned. And with Beric performing his duties as Sword of the Wolf, it had eventually made him feel worse than abandoned; it made him feel unwanted.

_I'll talk with Ned about it, maybe with Robert as well. Together we may be able to help him, _he thought to himself

And coincidentally, there was Adam, walking beside Theon, whose gaze constantly lingered on various serving girls with hunger in his eyes. Adam had no interest in them. He kept his eyes straight ahead of him. He had once sworn after a particularly bad example of Jon's poor treatment that he would never, ever sire a bastard. He had kept his word by not lying with anyone.

They reached the table and sat with the Stark and Baratheon children. Adam leaned back in his chair and gazed enviously towards the tables were the soldiers and squires were sitting. _That's were he wants to be. As soon as the feast gets going and he thinks he can get away with it, that's were he _will _b_e.

Beric found himself lost in his thoughts once again, a rather recurring event in recent weeks ever since he had learned just how deep Adam's feeling of resentment went. He and Adam had had a fierce argument, in which he'd accused Beric (as well as Dom and Maric) of being worse to him than Catelyn was to Jon. 'At least she doesn't hide her dislike behind excuses like you do!' had been his exact words. When Beric had failed to understand, Adam had taken the fight to blows. No one else ever found out the reason behind the fight. Afterward, Adam had denied meaning anything he had said, stating that all he said he said out of frustration. But having watched him closely for a while, Beric had realized the truth. Adam had truly believed every angry word and fist he gave to Beric that day

So lost in his thought was he that he almost didn't notice the last two people, the queens brother, striding towards them. The kingslayer, looking so fine in his gleaming, golden armour with a smug look on his face, one so similar to that of Joffrey and Cersei's they were almost identical. _Would you look so smug if I put you in Aerys' position Kingslayer_, he thought to himself. Jaime sat down next to Catelyn, leaving the space to Berics left empty. He smiled as Tyrion Lannister sat in the seat. Of all the Lannisters, Beric only liked Tyrion.

The only empty space on the dais now was on Jaime's right. Ben Stark would take that when he arrived.

Then Robert stood, and the feast began.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N

Disclaimer: The overall plot line, characters (excluding my O/C's- Redcloaks and Greycloaks) and setting belong to George R.R. Martin.

Reviews will be appreciated, and thanks to everyone who followed/favourited this story.

This is the part where I'm going to be very pathetic and beg for reviews.I like to know what people think. Is it good? Could it be improved? Who's everyone's favorite O/C character? Tell me, I'm genuinely interested.

* * *

Domeric

The cold wind felt warm to Domeric Redcloak, who had spent the last ten years of his life on the wall.

_This may as well be Dorne, given how cold it was on that bloody block of ice,_ he thought to himself as he and Benjen Stark rode into Winterfell. The castle was both quiet and noisy at the same time. Domeric couldn't make his mind up. The courtyard and castle itself were all but deserted, and it was eerily quiet, except for the low sounds of laughter and music flowing out from the great hall. The sound was so quiet, Domeric didn't even hear it at first. But he knew for a fact that if it could be heard through the castle walls it must be very loud.

They soon found out how loud. They walked into the hall and Domeric was near deafened. The musicians seemed to be getting louder by the minute, as did the laughter and bawdy jest's of the men as though they were in competition with each other. He could already feel sweat beginning roll down his face.

He leaned in close to Benjen and said "This place makes me wish I was at the wall," The youngest of Ned Stark's siblings (and only living one) chuckled slightly. Twelve years previous, after Balon Greyjoys failed rebellion, Domeric had been exiled to the wall for trying to kill Theon, the new ward of Winterfell. He hated it at castle Black.

Domeric surveyed the carnage in front of him. His eyes first fell to rest upon the dais. He saw Lord Eddard, stoic as always and Catelyn Stark one of the most beautiful women he had met, though he had no interest in her and wouldn't have even had he not forsworn the company of women. He then saw someone so attractive even someone who took their vows as seriously as he did began to doubt themselves. Cersei Lannister.

He looked at the others in their company. The Imp and Tyrion Lannister sat at opposite ends of the table, whilst a huge fat man sat in the center. The man could only be King Robert, as none of the others were. Finally he saw one of two faces he had wished to see for a long time. Beric, sat on Ned's left. Domeric wanted to go talk to him, but he had more pressing concerns. Beric had sent a raven to tell him about the problems he and Adam were having. Domeric didn't know the details, but he knew that if Beric had written to _him _for advice of all people. He wasn't exactly the epitome of family love.

He scanned the hall, eyes flickering over the table where the children sat. Robb, Bran, Arya, with Tommen and Myrcella Baratheon, he presumed, all talking with one another. The other must-be-Baratheon was talking keenly with Sansa Stark. Rickon had his head resting on the table.

He was nudged by Benjen, who then pointed to a table seating numerous squires, a few of the Winterfell guard (namely Rhaegar and Beron Reed), Sandor Clegane, Jon Snow and, finally, Adam Redcloak. The two Nights Watchmen strode quickly towards the table, Domeric grabbing a cup of wine from a serving girl on his way, which he drained quickly due to the heat.

They reached the table, but Domeric couldn't greet his brother straight away, as he was engaged in a drinking game with the Hound. The older of the remaining Redcloak brothers was disappointed at that, but proud for his brother being able to match Clegane drink for drink, despite the older man being twice the young Redcloak boys size and age. If rumor had it true then both men had had a lot of experience in drinking; Clegane for leisure and Adam to drown his problems in. Looking up at the Dais, Beric had been all but drunk under the table playing the same game with Tyrion Lannister.

"Domeric, good to see you!" Jon exclaimed, pulling him into a brotherly embrace. _Why do I never get this affection from my actual brother, _he asked himself, though he knew the answer

"You too Jon,"Domeric replied, then feeling something brush past his leg. He looked down and saw a white albino direwolf, with red eyes.

Domeric instantly jumped back. Every time he had ever seen a direwolf before was from a distance, but he knew they were dangerous. He'd never seen one as a pet before.

Jon smiled and told them the story of how they found the pups. They then spoke aimlessly for a while, until Jon brought up the fact that he was worried about Adam. Domeric had in turn informed him that both he and Beric felt the same. Then Benjen returned and Jon made his desire to join the watch clear. Benjen tried to dissuade him by telling him that he wasn't ready. Jon said he was, and Domeric agreed with him, but knew that the watch wasn't the right place for Jon to be. There was a reason he was there. There was a reason most black-brothers were Benjen made the mistake of telling Jon to father some bastards of his own first. That only made Jon angry and caused him to leave the hall.

"You could have just told him the truth about the watch," Domeric said shaking his head at Ben's lame attempt at fooling Jon.

"That would crush his respect for the watch. You thought the same way as him as a boy, and do you remember how crushed you were when he realized that the order was nothing more than a rabble of criminals.

Domeric only shrugged

Behind him he heard cheering. He spun round to see Clegane and Adam finish their game at a draw.

"Do you swing that sword of yours as well as you handle your mead, Hound?" Adam asked, a challenge creeping into his voice

"Just as well," the big man said back

"Doubt it," Adam shot back as Clegane began to move on to talk to some soldiers. He stopped abruptly and spun on his heel to face the young boy who had dared challenge him "But I suppose we can find out tomorrow, in practice."

"A duel?," he grunted and snorted "Very well little man. Noon, with live steel. We fight until the other yields!"

"You're on, hound. Just two drunk men, swinging swords at one another. What could be better?" Adam answered, grinning cheekily.

Clegane laughed and walked of. When Adam turned and faced Domeric, his expression darkened. Domeric looked at the man who had once been his young brother. He has leaned out and was now broad of shoulder and chest. His hands were rough and calloused with his arms being well toned. He was no longer the small, scrawny boy he had been when Domeric had last seen him, during a visit to Winterfell six years ago.

"Dom," the purple eyed man said coldly, like he wanted nothing more than to leave right then and there.

"It's nice to see you little brother," the black brother said. He reached out to ruffle the younger boys hair, but he pulled away before they had barely even touched.

"Don't," he said, sounding like he was trying to remain calm and in control "Don't touch me, and don't..." his voice broke momentarily, like he didn't want to say the next words, but knew he had to "...and don't call me little brother. You lost that right."

With that, he walked away. Domeric decided to go talk to Beric and the Starks. It might help quench the regret Domeric felt flooding his body.

"Well, Domeric Redcloak, nice to see you. Come to visit at last, have you, black brother?"

_Black Brother_, he mused. Yes. Black was the perfect word to describe how good a brother he was.

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Additional notes

So, we meet Domeric Redcloak for the first time. Did you like him? Yes? No? Maybe? Review and let me know

Secondly, who would you like to see as a PoV in the next few chapters. Again, review and let me know.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N

Disclaimer: The overall plot line, characters (excluding my O/C's- Redcloaks and Greycloaks) and setting belong to George R.R. Martin.

Reviews will be appreciated, and thanks to everyone who followed/favourited this story.

This is the part where I'm going to be very pathetic and beg for reviews. I like to know what people think. Is it good? Could it be improved? Who's everyone's favorite O/C character? Tell me, I'm genuinely interested.

Also, sorry for the wait. I wasn't sure who's PoV to write this chapter from. I'll try and get the next one up faster, but you'll have to tell me whose PoV you want next, otherwise I'll probably sit around debating it for a few weeks.

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Adam  


Adam walked slowly through Winterfell. The pure and simple fact was that he was bored.

The day had started decent enough, so long as he ignored the pounding headache he had had that morning. He had lost count how many cups he had drunk the night before. That morning he had gone to the practice yard with most of the noble residents and guests at Winterfell. Joffrey had sparred with Robb, showing everyone just how little like his father he truly was. The crown Prince was the most appalling swordsman that Adam had ever seen.

Following this match, Bran and Tommen went up against each other. Both boys were so thickly padded that Adam doubted they even knew when they'd been hit. In the end Bran won, though Tommen was clearly already a better swordsman than Joffrey and probably always would be._ He should have been first born_, Adam had thought to himself. He was kind, honest, showing the makings of one day being a capable fighter and actually cared about people. Everything Joffrey wasn't.

When asked if he would go another bout, Joffrey had sneered and said that "It was a game for children" and that he had "grown tired of swatting at Starks with toy swords". His attitude became clear for all to see, except for Sansa who was still obsessed with him. The insolent brat looked down on Winterfell, the north... anyone who wasn't him, his mother of his uncle, Jaime. Even Cersei wasn't as bad as that. Robb had to all but tie Adam down to stop him from strangling the little worm right then and there.

Sighing at the fact that he hadn't, and allowing a small smile at the mental image, he continued towards the first keep. He was bored because Robert had taken Lord Stark hunting. Everyone had gone with them; Robb, Theon, Sandor, Tyrion. Even Beric and Domeric, whose company he hated had gone. Arya was stuck in lessons, Bran was off climbing somewhere and he couldn't find Jon.

He arrived at the the First Keep not long after several more minutes of brooding. He had plenty to brood about. Specifically Beric going south. His family was abandoning him. Again. He had no parents, as his father had died on Pyke, and his mother had thrown herself from a tower after Domeric was exiled to the watch, claiming that 'all she cared for was gone, and never coming back'. In some ways hearing that had hurt less than Dom, and Beric and Maric's form of resentment. At least she had been honest.

He saw Bran's direwolf sitting at the base of the tower. He envied all the Starks, even Jon, for they had something he didn't. Siblings, who cared about them. That was something he longed for. The eldest of his siblings, Edderion, had been killed in Roberts Rebellion and of course Domeric had been sent to the wall. He didn't even have cousins who loved him. Even now that he hated them, he always tried to impress Dom or Beric, tried to make them proud. But he rarely had a chance to do so, as they hardly ever spent time with him.

Out the corner of his eye he saw Bran standing on a window ledge. A cold feeling crept up Adams spine, and he immediately knew something was wrong. He was right.

Turning his head he saw Bran falling. Shock and fear rippled through his body. He reacted on impulse, because he didn't even think before he was running hoping to save the small boy from death. One thought kept flowing back into his head _How did he fall?_ This was Brandon the climber, the most sure footed person he had ever met. He knew every nook and foothold in all of Winterfells walls. He had climbed in rain and snow and never once had he fallen. There was no way he could do so on a clear, dry day such as this.

He made it just in time to stop Bran hitting the ground. Despite Bran's size though, the impact of him colliding with Adam knocked Adam down, causing him to smack his head against the hard ground with a sickening crunch. Blood pooled out of the wound, and darkness clouded his vision. He was vaguely aware of a weight on his chest, and of two wolves barking and howling not far away.

In the window that Bran had been standing on, he saw a flash of gold, on top of a mans head. He knew now that Bran hadn't fallen. He'd been pushed and Adam knew who it was that did it. But then his eyes closed and he slipped into unconsciousness.

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So, sorry for the short chapter. Next chapter it'll be either back to normal or maybe even longer (it really depends on whose PoV the next ones from)

Anyways, love it or hate it. Please leave a review.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N

Disclaimer: The overall plot line, characters (excluding my O/C's- Redcloaks and Greycloaks) and setting belong to George R.R. Martin.

Reviews will be appreciated, and thanks to everyone who followed/favourited this story.

Sorry for the delay and the short previous chapter. Here's a nice long on for you as compensation.

* * *

Beric

The journey from Winterfell had been a long and tedious one. Weeks upon weeks of sitting on a horse, in temperatures far higher than what he was used to and filled with anxiety and worry proved to make Beric very uncomfortable.

They could be at Kings Landing by now, Rosby at the least, but the huge column of people trailing after them had slowed them down so much they'd only just reached the ruby ford and made camp. At least Beric had some company going south, that much he was glad off. He spent most of his riding time at the front of the column with Robert and Ned, catching up on old times. When they were camped, the King and his new Hand often went off somewhere to discuss politics, something Beric had no mind for. He was lucky that he had struck of as friends with Arys Oakheart, as he could drink, train and talk with him, rather than sit alone all day. Even better, an old war time friend had met with the column. Barristan Selmy had joined them in the neck.

That very day Renly had arrived, adding someone else to the list of people who actually got on with Beric. In fact, it seemed to him that all but one of the Baratheon's had come to like him. Joffrey avoided him like he had the plague, whilst his siblings often came to him asking for news on Bran and Adam, and offering their condolences. Beric still failed to understand how they could be related to Joffrey, or any Lannister at that. He stopped that train of thought and adjusted it. He failed to see how they could be related to any Lannister, except Tyrion.

After the accident at the First Keep, Beric had fought hard to remain stoic, knowing that him breaking down would destroy Domeric completely who was only trying to hold it together at all (albeit very unsuccessfully) because Beric was. He remained stoic whenever he was in Winterfell, even more so when he realized that everyone needed to get back to normal. It had fallen to Beric to convince Ned to leave when they did, despite Robert offering him more time to stay with his family. "Duty comes first, Ned" he had told him "Duty comes first". When Robb had started to let his responsibilities slip, Beric had pushed him on, and tried to convince Catelyn to leave Bran's bedside, telling her that her being there would do more harm than good. She had simply looked at him like he was heartless. He had all but dragged Domeric away from Adam's bedside, and sent him on his way to the north with Jon, Benjen and Tyrion.

That was in Winterfell. It broke his heart to have to remain in control and act like he didn't care, just so that everyone else could move on. At night, he snuck out of the castle to the inn in Winter Town, dressed as a commoner. Once there he cried openly, nearly drinking himself to death in grief, and no one saw through the disguise. The day after he was back to being stoic and no one else had a clue. Until the imp chanced to come across him at the inn, and had immediately recognized him. He promised not to tell anyone, and then just sat there in a comfortable silence, drinking with each other.

And now here he was, returning from yet another of Roberts hunt's, hoping and praying to the old gods, the seven, and Maric's new fire god that this time there would be no drama waiting for them when they got back.

Either the gods all hated Beric or they simply weren't listening.

As they returned to the camp, they could hear pained screaming coming from the wheelhouse and crying coming from the same place. The rest of the camp was in complete confusion. Robert and Renly headed towards the wheelhouse, knowing that it could only be one of their family doing the screaming and the kingsguard followed dutifully. Ned and Beric, however, headed towards the crying. It turned out to be Sansa. She immediately leaped away from Clegane who was holding her, and into her fathers arm. Beric stepped in between them and the Hound, waiting for him to try and take her back.

Eventually, the camp calmed down. The pair of northmen returned Sansa to the Starks tent, but she was too busy crying to tell them anything useful. Instead they had to use second hand information. Arya and her wolf were missing, Joffrey had had his arm gnawed off, Joffrey had killed Arya, Arya's friend, the butchers boy, had attacked Joffrey. Not knowing what was true and what wasn't, they had to wait until Robert called them.

"Seven Hells," he cursed loudly as the two men entered. Then he seemed to glare at Beric "I asked for Ned. I didn't tell you to come with him?" it was more a question. That immediately gave it away that it was something family related.

"I did" was Ned's reply

Fortunately, Robert seemed to accept this. Joffrey and Cersei however, did not.

"I will not have that beast near me. We should kill them all!" Joffrey cried, pointing at Shadow, who was paced by Beric's side.

"What right does he have to be here?" Cersei asked slyly. It was clear the Prince hadn't inherited any form of brains from his mother.

"Quiet, both of you. We don't know for sure what happened yet, so nobody is killing anybody's wolf. And he's Ned closest adviser. He's both of our friend. He stay's. But if it will satisfy you I'll have the damn wolf stay outside. Beric?"

Beric nodded and led Shadow outside. He was vaguely aware of two small shapes tailing him, but pretended not to notice.

"Shadow, stay" he commanded and the wolf sat.

He pretended to be surprised when Tommen and Myrcella jumped out on him, feigning to be scared and saying he didn't know they were there. The two small children started giggling, and smirking. They eventually calmed themselves down enough to tell him that their mother had forbidden them from seeing the wolves. Myrcella showed sign's of clever cunning that would get her in trouble if she actually used the excuse on Cersei. Her reasoning for why they _were_ allowed to see Shadow and Lady, was that "she told us to stay away from the wolves, but she didn't say direwolves".

Beric left them to play with his wolf and went back inside.

"I don't know what to believe Ned. My son says one thing that I don't want to believe, but without your daughter we can't prove otherwise," Robert was explaining, in an exasperated tone.

"What does he say happened?" Ned asked, nodding slightly towards Joffrey.

Robert looked over towards his son, sighed, and nodded to him. The golden haired boy took a deep breath. Beric noticed his nervous drumming of his fingers, and the way his eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere other than in the eyes of anyone. Beric already knew what ever he was going to say would be a lie.

"Lady Sansa and I were taking a walk by the river. We came across the girl with her butchers boy friend. They attacked me for no reason, beating me with sticks. She then ordered her wolf on me. It savaged my arm. She threw my sword in the river and then ran off," he said confidently. But never once did he look his father or Ned in the eye.

"See. I don't want to believe it Ned..."

"Then don't," Beric suggested. Robert glared before he continued "I have men out looking for your daughter, and I suggest you do the same,"

"Beric. Take Jory and lead the search. I'll join you later," Beric nodded at his Lords command and left intent on finding Arya Stark before the Lannister men did.

_3 days later_

It had been three days since the incident at the trident. The host had moved to castle Darry, which wasn't far from where they were camped.

Beric sat the chamber Lord Raymun had given Ned for the duration of their stay. Ned sat opposite him. The Lord of Winterfell rarely drank, but at the current moment, a flagon of wine lay between them. Arya had not yet been found, and sign's of worry were clear on Ned's solemn face.

A knock at the door brought both men back to their senses. A guardsman named Heward came into the room looking very worried and anxious.

"My Lords, the King requests your presence in the main hall. Lady Arya has been found," he said somewhat hesitantly.

"Why was she not brought straight to me!?" Ned demanded

"Jory brought her in,but it was Lannister men on the gate," the soldier explained

The two northmen strode to the hall where all noble born men who had ridden north to and south from winterfell (as well as a few others) were gathered. Most men parted out of the way for them as they made their way to the front. The king sat on the dais, the queen next to him, as well as Renly and Joffrey. The Kingsguard stood in front of them. Before them, looking visibly shaken, was Arya.

Upon seeing her father, the girl flung herself into his embrace, muttering apologies the whole time, until Ned demanded an answer from Robert as to why she was not taken to him immediately. Apologizing to him and explaining that this business had better be dealt with. Arya recounted her tale. Much differant to Joffrey. In her version, she had been 'sword-fighting' with Mycah when Joffrey had arrived and threatened Mycah, pressing his sword to his cheek and drawing blood. She openly admitted hitting him with the stick, but went on to say that he swung at her with his sword cursing her with any word in seven hells he could find. Eventually, Nymeria bit him, once and not much, and she then threw the sword in the river before running off.

Arya's tale seemed so much more believable to Beric. And what's more, she looked at everyone as she said it, going as far as to stare down Robert himself. Renly had a laughing fit by the end of it. Asking her to 'repeat the part where she threw the sword in the river'. Robert sent him out to calm down and he went, still laughing and choking out small phrases about Joffrey being disarmed by a girl four years younger than him, and half his size.

Of course Joffrey denounced everything she said, repeating his obviously false tale.

Sansa was called forward. At first she looked hesitant, before going on to say she couldn't remember. Arya looked set for murder, but a glare from Beric reminded her to stay calm.

"I want her punished," the queen stated, earning a wicked grin from the Prince.

After looking thoughtful for a minute, Robert said "You let this girl disarm you," Joffrey's grin dropped and he looked at the floor "See that your daughter is disciplined, and I'll do the same for my son,"

He looked set to leave it at that, but the queen suddenly said "What of the wolf?"

Jory, however, said that no trace of the wolf was found, and again Robert wanted to drop it, especially after the queen declared a thousand dragons for her pelt. She then said something that chilled Beric's blood.

"We have a wolf,"

"Robert, I beg you don't do this," Ned pleaded

"I'm sorry Ned, but direwolves aren't pets. Buy her a dog, she'll be better of for it," only then did Sansa and Arya grasp what was being said.

"He doesn't mean Lady does he?," solemn expressions gave away everything for her "Bu-but Lady's good. Lady didn't bite anyone,"

Arya kicked and screamed in Jory's grasp "Don't you dare! Leave Lady alone! Lady wasn't there!"

At the same time Beric was begging with Robert, his blood now boiling even higher by the second.

In one last effort, Ned cried out "Is this your command your grace?!" The king made to leave but Ned hadn't finished yet "Do it yourself then Robert. If this must be done then at least do it yourself," Sansa was now on her knees crying, whilst Arya squirmed trying to lunge at the Royal family.

Robert turned "Damn you, woman!"he said at Cersei, then left.

"Where is the wolf?" she asked

"Chained up outside," Ser Barristan answered only out of duty, and reluctantly. He didn't like this.

"Ser Ilyn, see to it," Ilyn Payne was the King's executioner.

"No, I'll do it," Ned said grimly.

Why would you do such a thing? Is this some trick, Stark?" the queen interrogated him

"Lady is of the north. She deserves better than a butcher. Jory take the girls to their rooms and bring me Ice," he said before he and Beric walked out, the latter very thankful he had left Shadow in his own room.

They found Lady and sat silently together knowing what was to come. Jory came back with the sword far too soon. Ned killed the wolf quickly, looking like he hated every moment of it. He told Jory to 'get ten men to take her bones back to Winterfell', because 'she is of the north and should be buried in the North'. He said it was one coat the queen wouldn't get.

Ned and Beric walked quietly with no conversation. Beric knew what the man was thinking. Reading Stark's was like reading a child's story book. Easy. He was thinking about the day they found the wolves, and about Jon Snow's words. They saw Sandor Clegane walking his horse down the street, with a mound slumped over it's back. For a terrifying moment, Beric thought it was Nymeria. That Lady had died for nothing. The truth was worse.

Lifting the blanket, Ned saw Mycah, dead and bloodied.

"The butcher's boy? You rode him down?" Ned asked clearly shocked

"He ran. But not very fast," the Hound replied flatly. 'Bastard' Beric thought. Everything he had heard about house Clegane was true. They were built on dead children.

* * *

Additional Notes: Apologies if any one was a bit OOC. Also, just thought I'd mention, other things are happening. But if nothing changes, then I don't write a chapter on it. So Needle, and the assassination attempt on Bran have still happened, but nothing changed so I didn't write the chapter.

I'll ask you, once again, WHO for the next chapter. Examples; Ned or Arys in King's Landing, Robb or Adam in Winterfell, Jon or Domeric on the wall or pretty much anyone else of your choosing, as long as they're not on Dragonstone. Maric Redcloak will not appear in this story. He will be in the planned sequel (Cloaks of Red and Grey:Clash of Kings)

Oh, and by the way. The more reviews I get, the less time there will be in between chapters.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N

Disclaimer: The overall plot line, characters (excluding my O/C's- Redcloaks and Greycloaks) and setting belong to George R.R. Martin.

Reviews will be appreciated, and thanks to everyone who followed/favourited this story. Also, I decided to do two PoV's this chapter rather than two shorter ones

* * *

Domeric

Domeric saw Jon's gasp as he saw the wall for the first time ever. Jon's eyes were wide as he stared upon the 700 feet high wall of ice that was guarded by the 'order' he was joining. _If only he knew just how low the Night's Watch had sunk_, he thought ruefully. They had always taken criminals on the watch, but in the days of old it was balanced by the chivalrous soldiers from the south, bastards and second sons looking to earn their glory, and the honorable men of the north, wanting to do their duty. Now though? The Night's Watch were even worse than the Wildlings, Domeric often thought. Though he rather valued his head, so he never said that out loud, just to be sure.

The Party had been riding for three weeks. When they set out from Winterfell, there had been only six of them; Domeric, Benjen, Jon, Tyrion Lannister and his two guardsmen. Along the way, the leader of the wandering crows, Yoren, had joined them with a group of criminals; thieves, rapist's and murderer's; who had probably chosen the Wall to escape death. They would probably have loved the experience death gave them compared to what they would go through on the Wall.

During the journey, Ben, Dom and Yoren often sat around the campfire sharing old stories, mostly to each other in reminiscence, but sometimes to Jon and Tyrion also. The other recruits seemed to think they were making half of it up- or exaggerating it at the least. The only part they believed were the direwolves, and only then because they had seen Ghost, who had them all madly scared just by baring his teeth. But one recruit thought it was all false. Rast, his name was and extremely mean and tough. He'd told them he'd probably seen more sitting in his home (Domeric doubted that he even owned a house of his own) than they did on the wall. He started to boast about himself until Domeric's knife landed in between his legs, just a centimeter shy of causing him extreme amounts of pain.

"Watch your mouth, rapist," he had said to him, spitting out the last word with venom. In return Rast had said that they were 'all as bad as I am, you must be because you're all stuck up here too'

"Some of them volunteered," Yoren had then pointed out, which caused Rast to laugh and ask who would be so stupid as to do that. The Redcloak man in black didn't remember much after that. He was told by Tyrion that Rast had apparently overheard Jon and Domeric talking about Bran and Adam, about the fall. The rapist said that he should go back and kill Adam, as a 'mercy', even threatening to do so. Domeric had been clever enough to fit the rest together. Rast's mulched face confirmed it. He had likely lost himself in a fit of pure rage, something he had done before and was told was rather terrifying to watch. He knew that the other Redcloaks were prone to it the as well, as it was a long running family trait, much like the Targaryen's anger that most of them were told to have, which, due to their incestuous past, eventually gave way to madness.

So here they were riding up to castle Black, the main castle of the Night's Watch, Benjen at the head of the group, flanked by Yoren and Domeric, who were followed by Tyrion and Jon, then the two guardsmen and behind the men who actually knew how to properly sit a horse, were the rest of the slightly unwilling recruits, chattering excitedly except for Rast who sat atop his horse silent as he had mostly been since the incident two nights ago. His nose was crooked and bent, clearly broken. His left eye was blackened, bruises dotted his face and was missing a few teeth.

Turning in his saddle, Domeric noticed Rast glaring at him. Sighing he turned forward again, spotting Ser Allester over-seeing the training of multiple Black Brothers. Lord Commander Mormont was standing with Bowen Marsh and Jaremy Ryker. Domeric knew he was going to be in a lot of trouble with the Old Bear. It was looking to be a long day

Robb

Robb sat in the seat of his father in Winterfells great hall. It had been weeks since the King's party had left for King's Landing. Even longer since Bran's fall, which put both him and Adam into coma's that no one was sure they would wake up from. Not long since a man had set fire to the library, before trying to kill Bran. Luckily, Bran's direwolf had saved him, but only with the help of Robb's mother. Now she had gone too, to try and find the owner of the dagger. They already had reason to suspect the Lannisters of having something to do with Jon Arryn's death and Bran's fall.

Robb shifted in his seat. He wasn't actually doing anything other than trying to get comfortable with using the seat that belonged to his father, who should be here sitting in it, not Robb. But deep down Robb knew that Eddard Stark would say that the seat belonged to the Lord of Winterfell, and that was Robb until his father returned from the South.

_I hope that's soon. I can be Lord Robb, but I can't replace you as a father_, he thought solemnly, thinking of his youngest brother Rickon, who had grown wild and unruly since people started leaving Winterfell, being only six he did not understand the reasons and often followed Robb around, clinging to his leg asking for their mother and father, and occasionally Sansa and Arya. Robb couldn't calm him. Shaggydog mirrored his behavior, almost always being angry and aggressive, already the most tempered of the direwolves.

The thought of the change in Rickon's wolf reminded him of another. Vex had become so differant. The playful and energetic direwolf seemed to be so upset. He lay on Adam's bed, whimpering and snapped his jaws at anyone who tried to either move him from his spot. This made Robb's thought's drift to his best friend, lying injured and unconscious in his bed, being there only for saving Bran. Luwin was sure that had Bran hit the ground, his condition would be far worse. The old Maester predicted that Bran would have broken both legs, his back, and a fair amount of his ribs; effectively crippling him for life, removing his ability to walk, ride and climb. As it was, only a small number of his ribs were broken and one leg, meaning that despite the limp he would always have, he could still do most things once it was healed.

Robb was jostled out of his thoughts when a dark haired servant girl burst into the room, crying "He's awake! He's awake!"

That caught his attention. One of them had woken up. But which?

"Who is? Who has woken up?," the young lord of Winterfell demanded

She cried out her answer excitedly, but Robb was already gone before she had finished, walking as fast as he could to the reportedly awake boy's room, trying desperately to look like the Lord he was supposed to be. He failed. He ran straight to the door and threw it open.

Sure enough, sitting there on his bed, with his Wolf next to him licking his face, was Bran.

"Bran?" Robb asked still slightly in shock

"Summer," he said rather flatly, but with a hint of pride and happiness in his voice "His name is Summer," gesturing slightly to the wolf

Robb breathed out in relief, the feeling flooding him. His brother was alive. The moment was crushed when Bran asked a question that Robb very much did not want to answer "Where's Adam?"

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Additional Notes: Apologies if any one was a bit OOC. I realized that some people haven't had much action in this yet, but I really don't want to write them wrong, because they're all great characters, even Joffrey who I sincerely hope everyone hates (I know I do)

Cya next time. Yozza out!

P.S. The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N

Disclaimer: The overall plot line, characters (excluding my O/C's- Redcloaks and Greycloaks) and setting belong to George R.R. Martin.

Reviews will be appreciated, and thanks to everyone who followed/favourited this story.

**jean d'arc: Glad you're enjoying it! thanks.  
**

**tammogram: Thanks for the review. I'm really glad people like it!**

**Guest: Unfortuantley, we won't be seeing Adam's skills until much later . Mainly because of the coma.**

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Bran

Brandon Stark didn't remember much as he woke up. He remembered falling. He remembered everything from before he started climbing, but only a little afterward, including falling. The one other thing he remembered from the fall was someone calling his name, in a panicked voice. It took him a short while to figure it out, but he eventually identified the voice as that of Adam Redcloak.

As he opened his eyes, he saw a dark haired girl in the room, carrying a basin of water. Catching sight of his movement almost immediately, the girl dropped the basin in surprise, allowing it to fall to the floor and shatter, charging from the room as fast as she could go.

Following this, Bran sat up and promptly noticed movement beside the bed. A large grey wolf jumped up onto the bed, and it took the young boy a short while to identify him. _My pup_. Or is it. It was so much bigger than when Bran had last seen it. It's own bright yellow eyes, shining in the sun, looked into his own Tully blue ones. The cold room held little warmth, but what it did enshrouded the wolf like a hot bath. In that instant, his wolf had a name.

As he ran a hand down his wolf's back, he thought back. He remembered a strange dream involving a three-eyed crow, that was telling him to fly. It was strange but he decided not to think on it. He could tell he'd had some sort of small fever, due to how hot and sweaty he was, so he simply decided to put this strange event behind him and pass it of as a fever dream.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and Robb ran into the room, stopping abruptly in the doorway, a surprised, yet pleasantly so, expression etched into his Tully face. His blue eyes seemed to shine with relief, yet he still held some caution, as though he were afraid he were dreaming; that this wasn't real.

"Bran?" he asked

"Summer. His name is Summer," he said proudly, as he gestured to the direwolf sitting at his side. He saw the happiness ripple off Robb, and he felt safe. But there was something else. Something in his posture, his expression that alerted Bran to the fact that something bad must have happened. Then he remembered the last thing he remembered about the fall, aside from falling itself. _What if...? No, it can't be._ He had to be sure. He just hoped that he was wrong.

"Where's Adam?"

The grieved look on Robb's face gave the answer, even though he said nothing. Bran knew that something had happened to Adam, who had been one of his favorite people in Winterfell. A third big brother.

"What happened?"

_0o0o0o0o_

_So this happened because of me. It's my fault. _Bran's mind whirred, thousands of thoughts, often contradicting, flew through his head, as he stood, leaning heavily on Robb because of his still mostly broken leg, at the side of Adam Redcloaks bed. Adam looked terrible, though Bran wasn't sure if he looked worse than him or not. The unconscious boy was pale and thin, looking a lot weaker and smaller than Bran had ever seen him.

He had insisted on coming here despite the protests of Robb and Maester Luwin, who had urged him to rest. He had wanted to see what damage had been done. As it turns out, not as bad as it could be. Blood loss from the head wound that he sustained upon hitting his head on a jagged stone, bruised ribs from the impact of Bran landing on him. But they were still worse than Bran had feared. Though everyone told him he had it worse, Bran wasn't so sure. He was awake. Adam wasn't.

According to the Maester, Adam must have tried to save Bran. As a result, Bran was in better condition than he should have been, except for Adam being there. Yet all this information only served as fuel for guilt, which consumed him like wildfire. If he'd been more careful, maybe he wouldn't be in this position in the first place. And for some reason, he thought of gold everytime he tried to remember the accident. This vexed him to no end.

_Vex_, the wolf lay silent at the foot of the bed. Usually he would be playfully bounding around Summer, annoying him to no end. But instead he just lay there, doing nothing but whining softly occasionally.

"Will he wake up?" Bran asked nervously, dreading hearing an answer he wouldn't like.

"We don't know, but you woke up. It may give us more hope for him," Maester Luwin answered, giving Bran a small glimmer of hope that he hadn't had since first entering the room.

Robb looked extremely upset as well, though that was no wonder. But he wasn't laden with the guilt that Bran no felt resting on his heart. Maester Luwin, Bran knew, was feeling rather at fault as well, probably thinking that he'd couldn't help Adam and therefore had failed in his duties, though Bran couldn't have ever brought himself to blame the old man, even if it were true. Much like he'd been told by Robb to stop blaming himself.

Luwin was very good friends with Adam, the younger often seeking out the other for advice and the Maester being quite intrigued by the boy's violet eyes. Once, when Bran was about nine, they had all been breaking fast in the great hall, when Luwin said he'd noticed something rather curious. He explained that Adam's eyes, were a lighter shade of purple than the Targaryen's, almost as if another colour, like grey, the general Stark eye colour, had lightened the colour. Bran could remember his father going pale, and looking sick and worried. The normally placid and calm Eddard Stark had angrily taken the Maester outside the room, and though they couldn't make out the words, Lord Stark's raised voice was heard. Luwin never made any suggestions like that again.

"Bran we shouldn't stay too long. You need to rest," Robb said, weariness heavy in his voice, snapping Bran out of his thoughts.

Reluctantly, Bran allowed Robb to lead him back to his room, hopping on one leg all the time, as to avoid putting wait on the broken one. As they left, Bran said a quick silent prayer to the gods, asking them to wake Adam up. He needed him.

As he lay down in his bed, slowly drifting back to sleep, in his mind, he once again saw gold. Only this time, it was a man. He just couldn't tell who though.

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Additional Notes  


**Decided to put this up showing confirmed PoV's:**

**Domeric Redcloak**

**Beric Redcloak**

**Adam Redcloak**

**Robb Stark**

**Bran Stark**

That's it for now. Cya next time. Yozza out!


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